


Lavender and Lace

by HazelDomain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Bottom Dean, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Edging, Episode: s11e05 Thin Lizzie, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Orgasm Delay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Teasing, Top Sam, Wincest - Freeform, blindfold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 03:57:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6179260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelDomain/pseuds/HazelDomain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lizzie's room is too pink for words. Dean can't handle it. Sam distracts him in the best way possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lavender and Lace

“I can’t…. ugh, I can’t handle this room, man.”

Sam didn’t look up at his brother.

“I told you I wasn’t leaving. Get your own room if it bothers you that much.”

“I _tried._ They’re all like this one. Like this, or…” Dean shuddered. “ _worse.”_

“How? How is that possible.”

“I don’t know. The one two doors down was originally the mom’s room, and I think I adopted a cat just by sticking my head in to look.”

Sam rolled his eyes. Dean paced the room, trying to find a non-doilied place to sit, and failing.

“I don’t even want to take a shower. I’m afraid the water is going to come out lavender scented and I’ll be rendered permanently unfuckable.”

“I’d still fuck you.”

“You don’t count.”

Sam closed his laptop.

“There’s nothing else we can do tonight. Just, go to sleep and it will all be over in the morning.”

Dean looked around.

“Think we can even sleep in here?”

“Well, we’ve pretty well established that there’s no ghost, so it should be safe.”

“I’m not worried about the ghost. I’m worried about spending eight full hours in contact with pink floral print.”

Dean pulled back the pink floral comforter, only to reveal pink floral sheets, with matching pillowcases.

“ _Really??_ ”

Sam came up behind his brother, pulling at his jacket, sliding it over the shorter man’s shoulders.

“One night, Dean. You can do it.” He nipped at Dean’s ear. “I’ll help you forget all about it.”

“I can’t. It’s too gay.”

Sam chuckled.

“You can’t have sex with another man in this room because the _sheets_ are too gay?”

“The wallpaper, the excessive lace, the oppressive smell of mothballs and lavender, the curtains, _and_ the sheets. Are too gay, yes.”

“What if…” Sam pulled his duffel out from under the bed, rummaging around and coming up with a black silk blindfold. “…I used this?”

Dean eyed it doubtfully.

“I don’t think it would help.”

Sam shrugged.

“Can’t hurt.”

“True.”

Sam started to shrug out of his jacket, and Dean snatched the blindfold out of his hands, tying it quickly around his eyes.

“I don’t want any visual of your naked body associated with this room,” Dean explained as he shucked his clothes off. “I might not ever be able to get hard in your presence ever again.”

“Doesn’t seem to be a problem now,” Sam observed. Dean grinned.

“Yeah, the blindfold is helping.”

 

Sam didn’t think he’d ever be able to get used to the sight of his brother laid out naked. The black band around his eyes brought the focus to his strong jaw and full mouth. Like he could sense Sam looking, his tongue darted out to lick his lips, and Sam had no choice but to lean forward and kiss him, hard.

“I have another idea,” he whispered in Dean’s ear when they finally pulled apart.

“Yeah?” Dean’s voice was husky, and he didn’t wait for an answer before grabbing for Sam’s shoulders and pulling him back down. Sam resisted. He reached over the side of the bed, drawing the other silk scarves out of his bag.

Dean grabbed for him again and Sam dodged sideways, knotting one of the scarves around Dean’s wrist.

“Oh, _that’s_ how we’re playing tonight,” Dean remarked, allowing his brother to tie his hand to the bedpost.

“That’s how we’re playing,” Sam agreed, securing the other wrist to the opposite post.

The queen bed was wide enough that Dean’s arms were pulled almost straight out. The muscles and tendons of his shoulders tensed as he pulled at the bonds. Sam sat back, admiring the view. Blonde stubble dusted his brother’s face, leading down his throat to the smooth firm expanse of his chest, marked only by the tattoo under one collarbone. Sam ran his fingers over it, loving that he wore its twin on his own body.

He drew his hands downwards, fingertips brushing over the pebbled nubs of Dean’s nipples. Dean shivered at the touch and Sam replaced his fingers with his mouth. The change of cold to hot made Dean twitch, and Sam bit gently at the hardened peak.

He switched sides, alternating until Dean was mostly symmetrical, and then sat back again. Dean was breathing harder now, drawing Sam’s eyes like magnets to his mouth and throat. Sam reached up, running a finger across Dean’s lower lip, and Dean sucked it into his mouth without provocation.

Sam’s other hand traveled along the ridges of Dean’s ribs, his thumb tracing lazily up and down his side.

Dean tried to twist, to get Sam’s fingers just a little closer to his cock, jutting proudly out of a nest of golden curls. Sam ignored him, to Dean’s displeasure.

Instead, Sam climbed back, pushing Dean’s knees apart and settling between them. He ran his fingertips up and down the inside of Dean’s thighs, mirroring the touch, making little circles on the insides of his knees and always stopping in the hollow of his groin.

He kissed the inside of one knee, sucking until a red mark rose on the other man’s skin. Satisfied, he moved up half an inch and repeated the action. He left a trail of little red marks meandering up Dean’s thigh, stopping when his cheek came flush with Dean’s balls.

And then he started over on the other knee and Dean groaned in impatience.

“You’re killing me here, Sammy.”

“Mmmm,” Sam agreed, taking his sweet time moving up Dean’s body.

If anything, the space between kisses got smaller as he got higher, so Dean was practically writing in anticipation by the time Sam finally reached his cock.

He dragged his tongue up the shaft, once, licking into the slit and making Dean groan and push his hips upwards.

And then Sam dropped his head, sucking at Dean’s balls and ignoring his shaft completely. He took one after the other into his mouth, tonguing them, feeling the skin loosen from the heat of him.

“ _Sam_ ,” Dean begged, and Sam pushed his brother’s knees up, burying his face between his legs and licking into his hole. Dean groaned and squirmed, trying to gain some friction against his neglected cock. Sam ignored him and returned to his balls, sucking and lapping until they were slick and wet and Dean was damn near crying with need.

Sam fished around the duffel bag again, cursing when he couldn’t find what he was looking for. Eventually his fingers closed over the familiar bottle of lube, and Dean sighed with relief when he heard the lid pop open.

Sam coated his fingers and then used his other hand to lift Dean’s balls out of the way, fondling them gently while he prepped Dean’s ass.

“God, Sam, just _fuck_ me already.”

“I’m only two fingers in, be patient.”

“Ugh, hurry up!”

Sam did no such thing, fucking Dean gently with two fingers, purposely avoiding the prostate no matter how Dean writhed. By the time he added the third finger, Dean was going out of his mind.

“Sam, please, _please_ fuck me. I’m begging you. I want you in me so bad.”

“How bad?” Sam asked conversationally, dripping lube onto the head of his cock and spreading it down.

“Fucking _bad_ , that’s how bad!”

“My brother, the poet,” Sam said, positioning himself between Dean’s thighs. He pressed his cockhead against Dean’s hole, rubbing gently and withdrawing when Dean tried to push himself down.

“Maybe we shouldn’t. It would be pretty gay to get fucked on these sheets.”

“I don’t care,” Dean panted, wrapping his legs around Sam’s hips and trying to pull him in.

“You sure? You sure it won’t render you permanently unfuckable?”

“I’m sure,” Dean whined, and Sam relented, pushing into the other man in one fast, even stroke.

“Ah, _fuck_ yeah!”

Sam’s hand closed around his brother’s cock, lube-slick and stroking him in time with the thrusts into his ass. Within a few minutes, Dean was close. His hands tightened around the scarves holding them, his head thrown back, every muscle in his arms and shoulders and stomach tensed hard.

Sam stopped his strokes, gripping the base of Dean’s cock in a tight ring. At the same time he tipped his hips upwards, making sure to hit that sweet spot inside with every single thrust.

“Sam, _please!”_ Dean begged, and Sam gave him one more stroke and Dean came.

Sam had enough time to think that he was beautiful like this, spread out and bound, skin slick with a sheen of sweat and ropes of white cum splattered across his chest and belly. Sam’s eyes dropped lower, to Dean’s still-hard cock and the sight of his own dick burying itself in Dean’s pink hole, and that did it for Sam, too.

 

He had to get a towel out of the bathroom to clean them up, and he didn’t tell Dean that it was pink.

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt [here.](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/105944.html?thread=40120792#t40120792)
> 
> As part of the Annual Melee of Kindness I'm trying to fill three prompts today. This is the second one and it's only 3:30, so I might accomplish a goal today. 
> 
> For more information on my AMOK hijinks, please see [my brand new tumblr.](http://mailissa-blog.tumblr.com/post/140535007146/running-amok)   
> It's where I put my author's notes when I don't have a chapter handy.


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